King Telophy watched the contents of his goblet for a while before taking a drink. He replaced it on the table and there was a faraway look in his eyes when finally he said, ‘And then I met Finelle.’
I sat forward, instantly alert.
‘Oh, but I was captivated. I thought this is how it feels to meet one’s betrothed. I’d never been so drawn to a female. And never was again. When years later I discovered her daughter was betrothed to my son, the irony brought out everything detestable in me.’
‘But why her? She wasn’t your betrothed.’
‘I can only suppose it was because my relationship with Leinori went unrequited and so passed down through her family. Whatever the reason, when I saw your mother I knew it was she I wanted.’ King Telophy was quiet, his dark eyes softening. ‘And I know she felt for me too … I remember the day we met so clearly.’ His eyes fixed on mine. ‘Would you like me to take you there?’
‘Into your memory?’ I’d been into Leif’s—seeing all he saw, feeling all he felt.
‘Yes, if you wish.’
Did I want to share that with him? If it meant I could meet my birth mother and understand the relationship between her and the King, I did. ‘I think I would like you to take me there.’
He came to sit beside me, wrapped my hand in his and told me to close my eyes and relax. Soon I was floating as I felt myself being drawn to him, and then, like a river meeting and becoming one with an ocean, my soul flowed into his.
Chapter Fifteen
I can’t take my eyes from her. She sits in a sunbeam, knees pulled up and face bent over the book resting on them. Her pale hair curls around the pages and her voice is soft and sweet. I can hear a smile in it. I don’t take another step, even move a muscle, just stay back among the trees, silent as the breeze. Such a spell she weaves around the half-ringlet of children, and around me. The story she tells is of a lost child, and an angel who drops small clues to see him safely home. My heart thumps against my ribs and I wait for it to give me away.
She wears a skirt and I can’t decide if it’s blue or purple. River stones are sewn into the hem and they shine in the sun. I want to call out so she looks up. I want to wonder about the colour of her eyes forever. A breeze sends golden-green leaves floating from the trees. One catches in her hair and I think she might brush it away, but she reads on, unknowing. Why am I so drawn to her?
I reach out with my mind, discover she is not yet allegiant to me. At once I am both pleased and dismayed. It means she is yet to be married, but also very young.
Perhaps she has reached eighteen very recently and will be at the next allegiance ceremony. She connects her thumbs and makes wings of her fingers, lifts them above her head and flutters them from side to side. The children look up, follow with their eyes. I see a pair fix on me and brighten. I am discovered.
‘The King,’ the child calls, leaping to his feet.
‘Where, where?’ the others cry. I step into the sun and they flock around me like birds. Their parents leave the market stands to see. The females come close, laughing, chattering. The males hover at the edges. I draw in the power that pulses around us through my skin, deep into my core, send a shimmer towards the males before offering my hands to the females and children. My hands are captured quickly and I let the power flow out through them. They gasp, they sigh, they fall to their knees. Their adulation warms me, swells my heart, makes me strong. I love them, I love them all. But it is she who has my attention. She watches me back, eyes sparkling—a shade more blue than her skirt. She waits her turn, patient. More patient than I.
Finally, she is before me, lifting my free hand into both of hers. Heat floods through me as her lips touch my skin. I want to lift her into my arms and fly away. I have the strongest urge to add my essence to the love and light flowing from me. I am shocked. Never have I wanted a female to know the male in me more. Not even when I was under the sway of dark magic. Shivering at the intensity of my desire, I close my eyes tight. Wanting surges in me like a trapped animal looking for escape. I could easily sink back into the old me, years of overcoming made redundant in a heartbeat. I am appalled at myself. But … what is it about her?
I tamp down on the baseness in me and eventually pull the power back. She looks up and her eyelashes flutter as she smiles.
I send the crowd away with the silent suggestion they should return to their tasks.
‘Would you walk with me?’ I ask when I’m alone with her.
Her eyes open wide. ‘Of course, Majesty.’ She frowns. ‘But I have told my father I will remain until he returns.’ Her gaze darts to a girl a short distance away. ‘Perhaps my friend—’
‘If you have told your father you will remain, then remain you must,’ I tell her. ‘But perhaps I might sit with you?’
‘But where would you sit? There is only this one little seat.’ She gestures to a polished round of wood on three short stumps—her storytelling chair.
I cross my legs as I lower myself to the forest floor, pat the seat beside me.
She shakes her head. ‘You must take the seat, My King.’
‘And then where would be my honour? Please sit, and tell me your name.’
She tucks her skirt between her knees along with her hands. ‘I am Finelle, My King.’
Finelle. I look up into eyes the colour of the midday sky. ‘The end is beautiful.’
She smiles. ‘I suppose you know the meaning of every name in the kingdom.’
‘Not all,’ I say as I pick up the book she’d been reading from the top of a small pile. ‘You are a lover of reading, Finelle?’
She points to the book. ‘And writing too.’
‘You wrote this?’ I ask as I flick through the pages. ‘But you are so young.’
‘People of many ages write books, Majesty.’ Her eyes narrow. ‘But perhaps this is an attempt to know my age?’
I laugh. ‘You are too clever for me.’
‘You could just ask.’
I lean forward and catch her eyes with mine. ‘Tell me then Finelle. What is that number?’
She blinks twice—slowly. ‘I only said you could ask, not that I would say.’
A shiver rushes through my blood and I know my delight must show in my face—I could not stop smiling if I tried. Dramatically, I clasp her book to my heart. ‘But I must know, Finelle.’
She grins. ‘Then I will tell you … if you can guess correctly in, oh … let me think.’ Her eyes sparkle as she taps a finger to her mouth. She is enjoying my suspense. ‘Two guesses.’
‘So you wish to make a game of it. Very well, but in a game the winner must receive a prize.’
‘Won’t the prize be the knowledge itself?’
‘That’s true, but imagine if I were to guess correctly in fewer than two attempts. Would that not be a clever thing? Surely, if I guess your age in one attempt, I deserve an extra prize.’
Finelle tilts her head to the side. ‘I think that is fair.’
I sit up straight and put the book down. ‘I should warn you I am very good at games. But will you give me a clue regardless?’
‘Certainly I will. I am aged somewhere between one and one thousand.’
She smiles a wicked smile and I smile right back, utterly entranced. ‘I suppose that is just, considering I stand to win a prize. All right then, my first guess is—’
She leans towards me. ‘The prize guess.’
‘The prize guess,’ I agree with a nod, my heart fluttering behind my ribs. ‘And my guess is … seventeen.’
She stamps her foot, leaves crackling beneath it. ‘I should have known! You are King—of course you know I am not yet immortal! You can sense it.’ She frowns. ‘That is a little like cheating, Majesty.’
I laugh. ‘But how can I be blamed for who I am?’
Her expression becomes merry again. ‘All right, go ahead, take your second guess.’
My heart plummets. ‘You mean you are not yet seventeen?’ I can already see my parents shaking their heads.
Two years is too long, Telophy. The next prince needs to come. But for her I would wait—if she would have me.
She is still smiling playfully. ‘Take your next guess if you wish a chance to know my age.’
I take a deep breath and as I let it out I say, ‘Are you sixteen, Finelle?’
‘Yes, sixteen,’ she says, clapping her hands together. ‘I will be seventeen eight weeks hence.’
Relief floods me. ‘Seventeen in eight weeks,’ I say. ‘I practically won. I think you should allow me the prize.’
‘But you took both guesses.’
I force a sigh. ‘I suppose you are right.’
Her eyebrows furrow. ‘What is this prize you want from me so much, My King?’
One corner of my mouth lifts up. ‘Now who is the curious one?’
‘Oh, not me,’ she says, trying but failing to look nonchalant. ‘It matters not to me. Don’t tell me.’
I ignore her protestations. ‘Will you grant me the prize if I tell you?’
She grins and it is so quick and lovely I want to catch it on my lips. ‘Another game is it?’
‘I see you like them very well.’
‘All right then, but I will give you the prize only if I am free to do so.’
‘Agreed.’
Her eyes are intense on mine. ‘What is it then, Majesty?’
‘I wish only to spend time with you. On your birthday I think. Would you spend that day with me, Finelle?’
I barely breathe. There are only two answers. If she has met her betrothed, her answer will be no. If she has not met him, her answer will be yes—and perhaps she will refrain from meeting him for my sake. She extends my agony by saying, ‘But surely a prize such as this would be mine, not yours?’
She watches me and I wonder—does she know how much I want her to say yes? Does she recognise the power she holds over me? Does she know she has enchanted me completely? And then a smile breaks on her lips. ‘I think I might like to spend my birthday with King Telophy.’
I let go the breath I am holding and she answers all my questions by laughing at me.
I came back to myself in a rush, wanting only to go back, see more of her, learn what happened next. ‘Did she spend her birthday with you?’
King Telophy returned to his seat, put both hands to his face and massaged his eyes with his fingers, weary. ‘She did,’ he said quietly. ‘I took her to the glass pools in the white hills of Nevere. We drifted in and out of caves in a tiny boat carved of golden balson wood. Finelle swore she saw a white stag.’ He laughed. ‘She almost toppled the boat trying to prove it.’
‘A stag? In Faera?’ I said, surprised. ‘I didn’t know they had them here.’
‘At one time there were many.’
‘So, she didn’t know my father when you met?’ I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
‘Not even his name … We did not speak of him that day and when we alighted outside her home, she asked for me to come in and have tea with her parents.’ His voice softened. ‘I saw her most days after that and when finally, her betrothed called to her more than half a year later, she told me immediately.’
‘What did you say?’
He caught my eyes with his. ‘Come to the moment with me and you will see.’
It wasn’t a command. But nor was it a request. He wanted to show me—maybe even more than I wanted to see.
Into my dream comes a butterfly. It lands on my ear, its tiny legs tickling, trying to pull me awake. I brush it away, watch it come back again, bigger, a windstorm swirling around its wings, blowing on my face, my eyes and nose. I wake slowly, tired after my long night. There is a girl leaning over me. She wears a butter yellow skirt and a grin. ‘Imp,’ I say, and pull her into my bed. She laughs and becomes a cloud around me, enveloping me in softness and scent—sugar blossom and vanilla and sweet, warm skin. I bury my fingers in her hair, my tongue in her mouth. She allows me to feast on her a while, then pushes away gently, small hands on my chest. ‘Telophy, wait. I have something to tell.’
I lift my hand to her and she leans into it, smiles as she brushes her cheek against my palm. My fingers are big against her face, her hair, pale silk falling around them. A feeling swells in my chest, buzzing inside me, making me feel proud and strong and more important even than King. I want to sweep her beneath me. Instead I smile and say, ‘Tell me then.’
‘He called to me last night … I know his name.’
The good feeling falls off me like a cloak, leaving me cold and exposed. I move my thumb to her lips, hold it over them. ‘Don’t say it, Finelle, for I do not wish to hear.’
‘But—’
‘No.’ I apply a small amount of pressure. ‘If you would leave me for him, then go. I would hurt but understand. But if you would stay with me, then stay and mention him not.’
She lifts her hand, curls her fingers gently around mine. I allow her to move my hand away. ‘Leave you for him, My King?’ She leans close and kisses me softly and against my lips says, ‘Never in all my life. I love you—could not love him more.’
Longing surges through me but I keep myself calm and pull away a little. ‘I want to believe you, but you can’t know that. Not without meeting him.’
She trails her fingers down my face, my throat, rests them over my heart. ‘For you, Telophy, I will not meet him.’
She moves her hand down my body but I stop her before it goes too far, bringing her into my arms and holding her so close we almost melt into one. ‘Three months Finelle, only three more months.’
But it’s myself I need to convince. I don’t know how I’ll resist her another three days.
It felt odd to know what King Telophy knew, feel what he felt. I thought of Leif and the way he’d resisted me, finally understanding the strength it had taken. ‘What happened?’ I asked. ‘She seemed so sure.’
‘She did, didn’t she?’ He hesitated, a touch of steel in his voice when he added, ‘But in the end it was all just a lie.’
From what I’d seen, it didn’t seem like that to me. ‘Will you tell me what happened next?’
‘I have some things to do, Marla, but I intend to show you all. I will come to you soon and you will see what became of your mother and me.’
Chapter Sixteen
Only a thin line of unlit wing remained when I went to Leif that night. I ran my finger along the edge, felt its coldness compared to the warmth of the rest.
‘You’re almost well,’ I whispered. ‘Soon you and Haigen will be planning your wedding.’ I’ll stay away. I pressed my hand to his face. He hadn’t been shaved for a few days and the bristles bit into my skin. I remembered how he disliked them getting any longer. ‘I’ll miss seeing you every night.’
His lips parted slightly. Slow breath in, slow breath out again. Hypatia had said his waking was down to hours now. I got up and went to the ensuite, gathered his shaving things together—soap, brush, water, blade and my favourite of his balms. I returned to him and set them on the bedside table. Pulling my chair close, I told him all I’d discovered of his father and my mother as I lathered his face and carefully ran the sharpened diamond down his skin, rinsing it often in the warm water. I finished with cool balm that smelled of lemon and mint, letting my fingers press against his jaw. I’d never do this again. I kissed his mouth softly. ‘You were right all along,’ I said against his lips. ‘We were made to be together.’
The King called me to him the next morning, took me to his chambers to confide what remained of the story of my mother. I took his hand and fell into him easily, my soul joining with his as I slipped back into his memories.
Outside the sky is heaving with Fae. I watch them through the window of my bedchamber, wings flickering every colour as they fly across the forest and gather at the edge of the private space around the castle. I feel them, every one, their joy and excitement tugging at my soul. Finelle comes up behind me and slides her arms around me. ‘All for you,’ I say, twisting my neck to see her.
I feel her l
ips between my shoulder blades, the softness of them as she nuzzles the tender place where my wings hide. ‘I can hardly believe it.’
I turn in her arms. She goes up on her toes and I lift her. She winds her limbs around me. She kisses my forehead. She kisses my eyes, my cheeks and lips. I tell her of my impatience to be wed to her.
‘To be wed, Telophy, or make love to me?’
I laugh. ‘Both.’
‘Tell me how it will be.’
‘Again?’ I say and shake my head as though it is work.
She stops my face between her hands. ‘And again and again until that day comes.’
I set her on the edge of my bed and go down on my knees, look up into her eyes. I take her hands in mine, hold them cupped together. ‘When we are wed, Finelle, you will hold my heart in your hands.’ I frown and like it has only just occurred to me, say, ‘Wait, you already do.’
She laughs and leans down to kiss my hair. ‘What else?’
‘You will be loved by our subjects. The males will admire and the females will adore. They will wish to do what you do, wear what you wear.’ I pinch a strand of her hair and slide it through my fingers. ‘They will wish for hair like silk and coloured as the sun.’
‘And I will be loved by you too, My King.’
Her voice is soft and makes me shiver. I draw her close and wrap her in my arms. ‘By me most of all. I promise to spend my days assuring you of it.’
Her lips find mine. ‘How will you?’
I catch her mouth in a kiss, rise up and tumble her beneath me. I push up on my hands and look into her eyes. ‘I will write poetry about you, craft rings of gold with my own hands. I will search each of my grandfather’s kingdoms for the sweetest of sweet things and the most exquisite of perfumes to give you. I will love you with my body and my soul.’
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